Sweet Little Handfuls
by RAW-SYNTH3TICA
Summary: SLASH - Tonto/John Reed - a collection of 5000-words-or-less oneshot ficlets featuring Tonto & John Reed's relationships in all it's mismatched, misshapen, & sometimes cute ways. - * G-T16 rated Only - explicit material on Ao3 * chapters will be updated whenever
1. That Crazy Indian

A reader who just e-mailed me today (whom I will name if she would like me to) asked me to submit these pieces here.  
So thank you, KK!

* * *

The mesas ran red as the sun cast down the last rays of light to the west, falling behind ancient rain-washed canyons and sandstone ravines reaching as they held up the ceilings of heaven upon their stone pillars. Tonto's arms extended to the very skies where crystal-white and multihued stars emerged from the covers of day, his fingers seeming as if to touch each icy droplet frozen in the dark still seas rippling with falling stars and nature's nocturnal children. High above into the sage-scented skies came moths sprinkling their silver ashes, bats chirping their language, pollen passing upon tree to tree as the wind swept up the sands around Tonto's folded legs, and mosquitoes the size of a man's fist being slapped away by John.

"Why couldn't we have ourselves a night at Red's or a proper place of rooming?" John at last pouted to his companion whom only proceeded to murmur under his breath of protection chants and gesturing the motions of touching the stars.

"Not much sleep at Red's," his voice came as one beats two stones together, his language less hindering than one might think of a Native who appeared no less educated than a slaughter lamb, "Too many distractions."

"We should forget about this business of masks and 'Spirit-Walkers' and Mosquitoes," John complained a little as he untied the leather band from his face and took off his sweat-rimmed hat, he loosened a button on his shirt to itch at a rash on his neck where his collar chafed.

"They do only what they do to survive," Tonto reached up to his riding partner with both pairs of blue eyes following his hand's motion until both eyes were crossed and Tonto picked a mosquito off the man's forehead, "Wouldn't you, Kee-Mo-Sabe?"

The question was a little hard to answer, but more than offensive to not answer for what seemed as if he were defending his entire half of humanity which called themselves 'Civilized' and his 'Savage', John swallowed his tight jaws and decided to think before giving a reply.

"My people don't need much, Kee-Mo-Sabe. Beautiful land is good enough," Tonto alas lowered his arms and rifled through a saddle bag, throwing things like a shoe over his shoulder, a brassier over the other, he found a shiny jar and tossed it after opening it's contents of a set of wooden teeth, he continued to speak after setting aside one or two items, "Hunt, water, skies - all good enough for us."

John shifted to sit against a dead juniper tree and felt just a little sorry for this man with a crow nesting on his head and face painted the way a drunk cancan dancer would, Tonto took a basin from behind the tree and filled it partway with water from their shared canteen, he then pointed with his chin to the saddlebag, "All is good when you don't ask for White Man's junk."

"Did this come from Red's?" John took the saddlebag in hand, shaking out things like lacey pantaloons, jars of white powder and rouge, a trashy can of snuff and bullets, Tonto only 'Hmm!'-ed and rubbed his face with a wet flowery lady's kerchief and shrugged, "Why did you take it when I could've bought it? This is very, very bad, Tonto." "Kee-Mo-Sabe didn't ask," Tonto shook his head and dried off with an embroidered corset, he then pulled the article back in wonder before holding up the piece to the fire in order to make out the threading, he huffed, "Makes a nice bundle for wood."

John snatched the corset away and hissed, "It's for women! Not that the long hair of yours' can fool me!"

"Can't fit you still," Tonto took a comb and began untangling the knots from the weeks of busy riding and the seemingly days before he had seen a proper bath.

John lost the words he had been saving for the long haul to outwit his unlikely partner, but they disappeared the second he saw his tracker giving such a look of amusement and something bordering seriousness. But not for the lack of humor, because if things were not so hectic or tense, John would have found himself laughing at the simple and well-put phrases Tonto answered his long-running prattling with. The paint did very much to hide more than Tonto's expressions, it hid the White-Man's ideal imagination of the 'Nobel Savage's' handsomeness.

"You should really stop stealing from women, Tonto. It isn't very civil to take a lady's things," John looked far off to where the wild hares hopped about spackled in white and streaked red while two scampered along with the brassier looped over their heads.

"Gave them help and fun for fair trade," Tonto explained, but was unable to see John's face as they always used to talk, he yawned as the hair gave way to long black rivers from his crown, he wriggled his nose after sprinkling seeds for his crow, "Could have asked nicely."

John leaned forward and pressed his stiff lips to his companion's, his eyes tightly shut and nose scrunched, he pulled back long enough to open his eyes and see Tonto holding the white horse's muzzle in place of his own, he pointed up at the crow, "Bird made me do it."


	2. The Tiny Divide

He peered about beneath his hat to the land painted crimson and streaked black beyond the moving sands, dry copper granules rustling beneath Silver's hooves as they pushed onward into Tonto's tribal encampment which was a day's ride north, John held unto the uncomfortable end of the saddle his body clung to instead of properly holding unto Tonto's waist. He knew the man would not at all mind being held unto for safety's sake, but John had a mouthful of trouble swallowing when Silver lurched forward suddenly and John nearly slid off the saddle blankets he designated for himself at the rear.

Tonto grabbed his wrist and slapped it on his own waist and said, "Spirit horse would hate me getting you hurt."

He remembered then of his partner mentioning that Silver was in fact the Spirit Horse and that he was chosen to awaken by chance when he had, not before scaring Tonto half to death and getting a rock to the face to prove death was still Tonto's unwelcome guest.

John sat rigidly against Tonto, his cheeks heating against the danged crow's tail which batted his nose and eyes, he blew at the stiff feathers as if they would move a tad to the side so he could concentrate on Not touching his partner, "I can't get hurt, remember?"

Tonto shook his head which made the feathers brush under John's nose, the ranger heaved forward in a sneeze but righted himself after feeling himself curl over the tracker's naked back, "Small accidents can still do Spirit-Walker in."

"Taking advice from a homeless local who has a crow for company and a horse for transportation is very normal," John said to himself, he scooted back away from the saddle seat and made sure not to touch his chin against Tonto's shoulder as he craned his neck about to look past the crow's wings, he mumbled in annoyance, "The seeds and paint do you no favors in your questionable sanity, Tonto."

"Why wake from graves? Why dressed in too many clothes when we all look the same underneath? Why ask stupid questions?" the ranger jumped at his companion's words since they seemed as if to pour from Tonto, they were the kinds he could not answer, just the types he could laugh about if he was more calm, "Why ask too many stupid questions, Kee-Mo-Sabe? Save your breath."

"I don't suppose you have a suggestion for us being on foot?" John raised a brow behind his mask, Tonto turned around and looked him in the eye.

"Born with legs, why not use them?" the tracker shrugged as he resumed to keep vigilant of their surroundings.

"Point taken," the ranger then nodded.

The rest of the way was more quiet save for the sounds of hares nibbling brush and bluebirds perching on thorny berry bushes, mustang herds whinnying over dune hills and their hooves thundering over sandstone tors peeking through the wind-whipping sandbanks. Horses of all colors, shapes and breeds flew alike mixed colors of the rainbow into the nearby canyons where none but those of Tonto's tribe dared to venture.

John felt a little silly for trying to make conversation or asking questions about a place he hardly knew aside from wondrous accounts made by travelers who came back east and published novels of the savage lands out west, very few pages touching upon the Indigenous peoples who inhabited these vast, sprawling lands. He also felt small, miniscule compared to the world which lay beyond his eastern city, law books and small time crooks, there was a whole continent untamed and wild as the people who cared not to change with the times pressing forward into the new ages of Civilized advancement. But there too were small pleasures of the seemingly isolated country of lawlessness; men held their families before their tribe, each person had their purposes and functions down to the elder and child, they cared more for the land and animals than themselves.

The title 'Nobel Savage' was only a tiny thread upon the woven tapestry which made a native tribe who they were and the legends of their ideal selves. John pulled back as a small band of braves rode forward to welcome them both back into their settlement. By this time the sun settled six hours from sundown, making their shadows squat and imprinted by Silver's hooves, Tonto dismounted first and John second. The place of current encampment was near a creek surrounded by waxy juniper trees heavy with blue powdered berries and standing cottonwood trees leaning slightly toward the creek's edge, the pale green leaves slapping against each other in the breeze and cotton seeds floating about the playful wind.

As embarrassing as it was to mention, John knew very little about Tonto and his crimson-painted home.

In the indecipherable language, the two were ushered into a teepee, various foods in earthenware laid out before them, neither said a word as they dove in and ate heartily, both drinking from the same jar of spring water as they did. Once done, the two were herded out to the creek most covered by cottonwood saplings and a wall of tumbleweed, John did by example as Tonto undressed down to his breechcloth and slipped into the pool.

"Is there a place I can-" John turned about with this folded clothing, but set them down where he stood, he shakily waddled in and sat at the deepest end until the clear water lapped at his chin.

Tonto proceeded to rub his face, the paint washing away slowly, the crow and bandanna no longer in view as he dipped himself into the water, emerged with a splash and just as suddenly submerged himself. The pool became still, almost as if John was there alone, he gulped as panic overtook him, he stood up, but nearly fell back as Tonto also flew up. The tracker proceeded to wring his hair and rub his arms until the grit revealed his natural skin, he wiggled his nose and scratched his side.

"The land really is good enough for us," John chuckled, Tonto seemed as if to float across the shallow pool until they were only separated by John's height, he asked, "Everyone is gone, your tribe is saved; what next?"

"My journey is over-" Tonto smiled, he was indeed different without the paint, John much preferred him this way, "Back to sheriff business."

With their clothes taken to be washed, they both knelt back in the water as once again the sun began to drop ever so reluctantly behind a puff of rain clouds. John scooted himself close, his hands cradling his companion's neck and face as he held their foreheads together, Tonto's own palms resting on the flexed biceps, the silence was all that was needed to answer what came in the moment of the land's hushed peace.

If what they felt was not deeper than friendship, then it must have been something more.


	3. A Night at Red's Bordello

A little more plot & a little less crack, enjoy!

The two, Lone Ranger and his riding partner Tonto sat in the overcrowded tables at Red's Bordello establishment, John downing drinks for the madam Red Harrington's gratitude for killing the bastard Cavendish who stole her leg and prima ballerina dreams along with all the promised fame the wide stage could offer her. The men sat at their spot front and center of the stage with their table full of shot glasses stacked to two levels, of Red's 'House Specialty', Tonto sipped at his shot outnumbered one-to-eight against John who had a touch of buzz going as the stage paraded expensive French ladies catering to pleasures of the flesh. The most offensively high-piled hair and the lowest bodices, and the showiest lace stockings up for grabs as each woman spread her arms to reveal lace embroidered into wings , dresses flashing a long ivory leg as she marched forward, her wooden heels stomping in a set tempo which the saloon pianist followed with a buoyant ditty.

Among the whiskey-soaked joys being lapped by the happy patron, creamy bodies scantily-clad, John found his eyes wandering back to his partner whom sat straight, his unpainted face showing signs of absolute bore, he looked exactly like a child who dreamed of playing when forced to sit through Sunday school.

John smirked as he leaned forward to his partner, his voice raising several times to a shout since the other sounds drowned out his tipsy laughter, "You should go up there and give that crow of yours a reason to flap around."

Tonto's eyes widened, then narrowed with a raised brow in the ranger's direction, he crossed his arms and raised his chin in defiance, John kept on pushing with a devil-may-care shrug, "Well, that's if you're not too scared-"

"Won't do it?" Tonto stood up instantly, his posture terrifyingly serious but his eyes playfully shining in the bordello's pink and orange spotlight.

"By Red Harrington's red heels - I doubt you'll even lift a leg and step in step, Tonto," John smiled good naturedly since he knew this was all in good fun with his riding companion.

"We shall see," Tonto put down his bandanna and the crow along atop the table, he hopped upon the stage as another tune played teasingly from intermission into a lively work of the devil himself to have the women already arranging themselves so quickly.

Tonto bowed gracefully as a gentleman does, his legs together and straight, his right arm placed in a low sweep to his waist then raising as the madness began, a lady wrapped an arm about his neck as she hooked a leg over his hip, he swung her easily from his left to his right while two marched towards him with their knees and toes kicking high along the maddening cymbal crashes. Four in dainty black ballerina slippers rose on their toes behind, their lace wings drifting up in flight, their long legs whipping their bodies round and round in circles. Brass horns blew as the two in heels reached their destination, Tonto flipping one easily over his back, the other swinging underneath, they stood at his side flapping their dresses until the lace seemed as the downcast lily blossom whipping in a flurry of snow.

John's heart leapt from his own chest not for the flashing of legs nor the rouged smiles shot his way, he watched wholeheartedly at the fluid motions of Tonto lifting and keeping in stride lest his moccasins get stepped on, the ranger laughed as the girls each spun furiously and languidly lifted the lace and silk dresses up to their thighs, Tonto instead crossed his legs and pulled the leather tail of his waist attachment down in show-modesty. Cheers erupted from the crowd as two slender ballerinas sat hauled up upon Tonto's shoulders, the girls in heels stomping with angry cadence, they bowed and backed away only to charge forwards, the two slender dancers lightly flipped off the shoulders, they circled him as a predator to her prey. Just as suddenly the tempo heightened, the girls and Tonto stood in a line, their arms hooked over the other's elbows as they held themselves in a forward-facing chain, the girls kicked their knees high in the air followed by their straightened leg sweeping high into the air.

John grabbed his sides as nervous laughter filled his lungs, he watched while his partner marched forward with the girls in stride, the mood of the bordello livening to the oncoming crescendo of the evening neared. Tonto stood and kicked soundlessly, his own mouth blown into a full grin, he stood a head above but felt overpowered by all the energy ready to set the stage aflame, the girls whooped like singing water birds in the midst of play, and all fell to the floor over their split legs, Tonto instead sat cross-legged and happy as a sunbathing lizard.

"That was so-!" the ranger sat down from the bordello-wide standing ovation and calls for encore, he allowed Tonto a seat before finally sitting down himself, his hands patting his friends back as he shouted over the cheers, "I didn't think you'd do it!"

Tonto nodded with this wide smile as he shrugged off the rain of compliments his partner showered him with, he sat back and kicked out his moccasins from the bottom of his chair and quietly accepted his friend's praise.

"Tonto, this calls for celebration," John shouted as he filled their shot glasses, he leaned forward and commended, "To the bravest man I ever knew. Cheers."

"And wildest women to live," Tonto mumbled and tilted back the shot.

John wrinkled his nose, he looked down at the shot glass obviously confused, he took another filled glass and tossed back, Tonto followed along after watching what the ranger did, they downed nearly a dozen before John realized the taste and content of the drink was very Off, he felt sick to his core as if someone had kicked him in the liver.

"Strange," he proclaimed, catching a tray-toting bordello maid by her arm and holding up the glass to her, "Excuse me, miss."

"Anything wrong, sugar?" she smiled the rouged come-hither smile seemingly for women not looking for a friendly chat.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not drunk enough to ride backwards," John explained, "The whiskey is defective."

"Aw, hon, Madam Red serves what she wants and the special is Special because you can have however much you want," the barmaid thoughtfully clarified of the drink, she put a hand on her hip and looked to both men blankly staring at her as if she grew an extra eye on her head, "No man never complains for having supply of too much the good or bad affair."

Realization caught the ranger by his throat, he swallowed the bitter aftertaste and just Knew he should have caught on sooner than having the woman Tell him what they were drinking, "This is-"

"Triple-distilled grade-A pigswill, hon, made by Madam Red herself," the maid smiled, Tonto swore John's face turned green at the answer.

"Excuse me!" John stood up and rushed to the nearest door, Tonto and the barmaid stared after the swinging bar doors beyond the maroon curtains.

"You'd like another?" she turned to Tonto whom shook his head in answer, she turned away and continued her rounds through the packed tables, "Sure thing, hon."

They both departed at least an hour before dawn, John completely leaned over Tonto as his empty stomach rumbled and throat burned from drinking too much of 'Red's Special'. He found dots connecting symptoms to the drink consisting of barley and corn odds and ends stewed haphazardly in dried sugarcane, that what they both had was a weakly alcoholic cure-all invented by Madam Red Harrington. The tracker was not at all affected, not visibly at least, John on the other hand was sicker than a dog that got kicked by a dozen porcupines sniffing the wrong end of trouble. He remembered trying to heave the night away but could hardly get anything up past his stopped up throat.

"Dig me a hole and throw me in, Tonto," the ranger said limply before they stopped long enough to decide on going westward on the invisible fork-in-the-road trail.

Tonto snorted, then chuckled, "By Red Harrington's red heels!"


	4. Baby Steps

John could hardly count the days between those numbered on the notches in his saddle and those stitched into his friend's empty leather gun belt, there was a holster but no heavy irons weighing the tracker's hips. The ranger decided it was the day they headed back to the Comanche's tribal village, upon the way they encountered something most unexpected: a wounded yearling limping along the trail to nowhere, it's front left hoof dragging long lines into the red sand, a weak wheezing rasp from it's chest as it continued onward. Tonto wordlessly dismounted and approached the colt, his arms at first raised slightly up and forward, the colt's weak eyes followed only rim white and huff nervously. The ranger's spurs jangled as he was about to reach for their rope, the tracker held up a hand to keep John from spooking the young animal.

What surpassed between the two was nothing short of unusual in John's view as he scooted forward and leaned over the saddle horn, Tonto and the colt stood face to face, the colt showed signs of an attack, long ugly welts of red paired into threes smattered the colt's flanks and legs, it's knees skinned as was it's stomach, twitching red muscle visible and swelled with blood. Cougar attack, by the looks of it. The colt blinked it's dead gray eyes, sand and twigs caking the corners of freshly dried tears, the tiny muzzled then sniffed Tonto's upturned hands, sensing for traces of decay which are the trademark of predators, be they four-legged, two or a hundred-limbed count. John knew he had much to learn when comparing himself to his partner, he was a little dulled by his privileged lifestyle to the awareness of what lay beyond cobblestone roads, and English horses which were so learned that they needed their own translator and trainer.

Tonto on the other hand was taught on his fourth summer balance, that the world was filled with both wonders and dangers, and respecting each thing for what they were was not only the way of life, but also lay a foundation for a peaceful and prosperous lifestyle ahead. He glanced back to the ranger, those blue eyes on him, he nodded for John to dismount, joined by another pair of helping hands, he fought the impulse to show his obvious unease as they proceeded to search out water-retaining scrubs along the sandy banks appearing, alas reaching cactus-looking spiny plant with a healthy plumpness in it's long waxy fingers, Tonto broke off the uppermost piece, and smeared the watery oils upon the colt's wounds. By example, John dutifully imitated his companion's gestures almost perfectly, save for once reaching into the flesh a little too deep, otherwise Tonto stood at his side pleased of the ranger's ability to pick up granules of knowledge when taught once, which was a much sought-after quality in both child and lesson-seeker.

John and Tonto led the weak colt to shelter beneath a flat rock atop a hill overlooking the grooved mesas, winds blew in the scents of oncoming rain where they could rest for only but a few moments, they continued again to find the camp while supporting the drowsy yearling, a few drops wet the thirsty earth, her skin welcoming the thunder and droplets which only seemed as if to grow with each step the pair took. Silver nudged the colt soothingly as the young animal began to whinny faintly, the soil churned in it's saturated state, their tracks beaten away by the heavy dollops of dark rain.

Noon became night as they alas found the camp glowing dimly beneath the swaying cottonwood trees, white streaks tore the sky in half followed closely by the roar of the black clouds grouped tightly about, Tonto first led the colt into a teepee and emerged empty handed. John dismounted, taking his saddle, bridle and blankets along, Silver trotted to the herd sheltered inside a shallow cave, the two men then trudged sleepily into their designated home away from home. A tribesman having already fed the fire lest they come back at any given time excused himself from their teepee and went respectively back to his own family, they shook the rain away and sat face to face across from each other near the fire, a bundle of dried berry cakes and an enamel pot of stewed jerky meat boiling carefully over the hearth as both John and Tonto helped themselves to the foods without invitation nor thought to speak of the events which occurred.

"I hope the colt doesn't die," John said alas, Tonto met his eyes as he was about to take a mouthful of berry cake behind the unruly long black cascade reaching well past his waist, the ranger figured that he had seen all there was to see as he bashfully averted his gaze.

"Maybe will, maybe won't," the tracker answered, he sipped at the wooden bowl and helped himself to more of the broth.

John again felt strange for having not seen Tonto's face all day, and now for the first time he saw something bordering worry, concern, but it might have been his imagination since the man's expression again became fierce but placid, as if not wanting to talk more of the little things which remained pure and wild such as the young mustang colt appearing an omen of even the young being touched by death. A tribeswoman then took from behind the hide doorway their empty water jug, their used dishes and pot carrying only air from the pair's full stomachs, John pulled off his sopped clothing while Tonto sat turned away as he too stripped and tied another breechcloth to himself, he hook off his beaded war shirt and began plaiting his hair. He patted the crow in endless flight which sat next to his bedding as he lay face up in thought, his fingers counting along his silver beads upon his wrists, John then resumed changing.

Tonto again would not gaze his way, he shimmied into an extra pair of trousers and a sleeping shirt a little disappointed that he was not the last man alive on earth, he huffed and covered himself with the quilted hide blanket a tribal elder had made for him, he thought to himself how his rebuffed attempts at appearing less platonic to Tonto were bordering the shameful lines past downright embarrassing. Each kissed missed by a mile and always ended up on either Silver or the air surrounding Tonto or the wall between tribal taboo and the Lone Ranger's spotless social reputation, either way, the last thing he wanted was not only to completely crap on his next attempt or to see only Tonto's shadow as a farewell if he ever tried too hard or pressed himself too much on his friend. Gifts were the Worst part; strings of pearl beads were given to children, a small box of seashells re-gifted to the tribal medicine woman, expensive furs became the chief's most prized possessions, strings of corals and turquoise disappearing without a trace as did John's silver concho button from Silver's breast collar. The worst thing to do was point fingers in a place where each person surrounding him was their own sheriff by right of stone blades in their belts.

"Why does no one ever look us in the eye any more, Tonto?" John asked, fully settled into his bedding, he peered over to the other side to Tonto whom glanced his way and raised a brow in confusion, "There is the rule of etiquette consisting of two people making something polite called 'eye contact'."

The pause while Tonto spoke was deafening, he answered, "People think we're different."

"Obviously," John flopped unto his back recounting the ways they should appear 'different'.

First, being Tonto's winged company now not being present in public, but was always treated as if it were alive. Secondly, no person had ever seen an Indian and 'White-Man' together as other than captive and captor. Third, John wore an all-eclipsing hat never seen in the west and Tonto wore roughly-worded humor like fleas on a drunk.

"How does your people say-?" Tonto closed his eyes to the shame which flooded him as soon as he answered, "Like you are my life mate."

The fire died down to juniper and cedar sap-scented coals, the rain by chance falling in and sizzling away through the teepee's pole gap, the world outside lit white flashes before John asked another question in the simplest of words he could muster, "Do I shame you, Tonto?"

"No," the tracker stared straight up to the smoke curling upwards and funneling out of the slight gap in the teepee, he spoke slowly, his voice soft, "Have no wife, no children. Am alone."

Realizing his friend was unhappy by tone of voice, he prodded a little further, "Do you want a wife?"

"No," Tonto made a move as if to turn unto his side away from John, but paused and returned to his back, "Too ashamed to want one."

"Is this about money? A woman?" John asked, he propped his head up on a hand and waited.

"You're my friend," Tonto merely said, he then closed his eyes so their discussion would end where it had.

"What does it all mean?" John's voice rang out in the bordello the next day.

"Uh-hm," Red sat upon her velvet high-backed loveseat as she listed while John paced back and fourth before her, "The love bug seems to have infected your redskin, lawman."

"There's no such thing as the 'love bug', it's a myth," John turned to her and jabbed finger in her direction as he grew angry with worry.

"I'll bet my shiny ivory leg he likes you," she spoke all the while swinging her good leg over the heavier one.

"Of course he likes me, I'm his friend," John was about ready to tear his hair out by the clumps for his annoyance at Red being so cavalier.

"Oh, he used That word, now did he?" Red rose up to lean forward, her rouged lips ticking up one side a touch upon her white skin.

"Yes, and I'm a good one at that, too," John mumbled began furiously pacing again.

"Reed, the use of 'friend' implies a little more than it does to us white folk," she giggled, "You're a smart man, think about it."

The ranger's legs and hands shook, he was so happy he could burst or whoop out with joy, he could run the world over twice and land on one knee when he stopped, he instead marched stiffly out while murmuring to himself, "Baby steps, John."


	5. The True Meaning of 'Friend'

Thank you all who follow, review & most of all Read! & if you are wondering if these places I write are fictional, I'm sorry but they're not. They are places I have been to & continue to care for now that I'm of age. I'd have provided pictures, yet FFnet does not allow things as such, but I will have some up on Ao3 soon! Thank you again for reading! :)

* * *

The very next few days of the calming monsoons washed away hazy railway smoke and the seemingly bad luck, John fully clothed for whatever may come- emerged from the teepee Tonto had shared with himself for the past two weeks, he stretched and drew in a deep breath as he walked across the soft red sand to a log downed by nearby floods, the scrubby white bark stripped away leaving a soft spot for anyone to sit. He watched as women and children foraged for plump sour red berries among the thorn brush from which they grew, behind were the sounds of men chattering their language strategy for hunting elk and small game for their own children to learn skinning and proper cooking. Even the horses themselves were busy kicking up great gusts of copper sand as they tumbled unto their backs, squirming this way and that to rid themselves of fleas and biting flies; all the camp was busy except himself and his unseen partner.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder, snapping John suddenly out of his thought as he met his friend smiling ear to ear for reasons unknown, Tonto without explanation whistled, from the herd came prancing the mustang yearling, the little head playfully nudging John on his elbow in passing, Tonto patted the strong neck and shoulders, asking, "Remember him?"

"The colt. Tonto, how was he healed?" the ranger left the log and appeared at the colt's opposite side, he gently patted the colt's solid chestnut coat and hanks of black hair whispering freely with the wind, he searched out with his hands the wounds that were now fully healed scars, the short hairs slightly raised upon the welted skin, he proclaimed quietly, "This is amazing!"

"I know who would love this colt!" John smiled warmly, but Tonto's eyes raised from the colt's shoulder; being as it may how he could have given the colt to any of the people of his tribe, yet could not object since John also helped in healing the young animal, "Danny would be so happy."

Tonto's smile dropped completely from his face, he brushed past John and saddled up Silver, his motions bordering cruel yet gentle, he led the fully saddled Silver to a stop before John and led the colt along whom had bonded with the white horse days before, the tracker simply said, "Come then."

John was left to wonder what he had done to offend his riding partner, Tonto on the other hand felt a cold fury like no other strike him in the heart, an icy frost so bitter he was nearly paralyzed the moment he felt it, he was ever more angry at himself for being helpless to say 'No' to his only friend, to deny him anything the happy White-Man asked of him. Onward the tracker went with Silver's bridal in hand, the mustang colt dancing on the hot dunes behind John, his heart mourned the fierce bitter tears he had yet to understand while his face remained stone-impassive and his body became rigid and unwelcoming.

The territory gradually became familiar to John, he glanced about the scrub-spackled ground and saw over the hill his first love's home, Rebecca stood at the clothesline pinning skirts, trousers, and shirts to the line. A small, cheerless smile spread over John's face, his mind unable to keep his memories from warming to the first person who held his heart and broke it just as easily, Tonto in turn handed the bridal to John and turned away to the trail from whence they came.

John took Tonto by the arm, he asked, "Where are you going?" "You, Kee-Mo-Sabe-" Tonto peeled off John's arm, he then held up both hands before his waist, palms outward and pushing, then John understood clearly, he finished the name of his sign language, "-stay. Go home."

Already, Rebecca came running in her skirts with her two work hands and Danny at her side shouting 'Uncle John!'

Once more the cold stab shot through Tonto's chest the moment he glanced from Rebecca's overjoyed face to John whom looked as if he regretted smiling, the last pull of his then-pale now sun-baked cheeks disappeared. Tonto understood then the emotion he felt, and the cure to keep himself from ever having his chest hulled out again, he began his long trudge through the sand dunes back to his tribe, and to most likely have the woes of the world married to him instead of an eligible young lady. It was good business for a man with no true home to go back to. The true meaning of love dawned on him along with the bothersome weight he carried in his head; being together was to have the sun never set, being apart was to have an incurable sorrow tear him of his honest and proper thinking, all he knew seemed to be scratched into the air and reluctant to come back down. In his mind, there appeared to be no word with the same meaning equal to 'lover' as there was for 'friend', because it signaled the budding of a friendship which would then lead to the sharing of their souls if ever luck deemed fit to grant him his only wish.

The colt followed after only to be chased away by Tonto while his heart wept in place of his dry eyes, he went on with his heavy spine and weightless arms until the sand swallowed him whole and John was unable to look on after for the stupid crow and long, black hair which whipped about the mirthless wind, almost mirroring Tonto's emotion.

He despised himself for not running after, for not speaking in his partner's language so that they may understand each other more fully, yet he stayed like the man unable to weaken his grasp with the past and abandon all burdens to lighten his step toward the future he wanted the most. John kept himself from trailing behind like a lost soul searching for nothing, a child crying helplessly for their dead mother, without Tonto he felt as hollow as a song without music, a voice without sound,… a man without his wife.

'What was That just now?' John lost his bearings as Rebecca drew him down for a kiss, he could not find it within himself to push her away nor run after the long-gone tracker.

Was it just days ago he had been told he was Tonto's only 'friend'?


	6. --PREVIEW--

Okay, okay, who says I don't love my readers? So here, I'm putting up something happy which is a traditional rendition of a fairy tale of my tribe & there are many different renditions worldwide of this story, yet I only know two traditional versions ultimately leading to the same conclusion ('The Man and the Dove'/'The Man and the Pigeon-Girl') It's a little sad & romantic, but I'm giving it a twist of comedy so John & Tonto's divorce doesn't get you down, take note that this is not an Exact word for word retelling, it's an 'inspired-by' piece. The last half will be posted on Ao3 since it'll be an Explicit-Version (NC17), I'll give you a heads up in future chapters if I get it done in time.

this story was born from watching too much 'Crybaby' & 'Mirror, Mirror'

* * *

There was once a lake, the water clear and sweet as one might expect from spring water which bubbled only walking distance away, the west side spanning to the south of the lake rippled shaded by leaning cottonwood trees by which's roots tangled into the lake and braided itself among the soft copper-streaked sandstones at the warm lake bottom. Gravel glittered as a polished quartz crystal does after first being shown to the sun, tiny frog children swam in play at the bottom as did the water skeeter paddling their four legs over the clear surface, the sandstone spring dribbling water from between it's smiling lips boasted islands of pale green orchids, bright bunches of turquoise moss and strings of falling vines which curled gracefully by their roots. Beside the gentle cleft cut by ever running water lay cotton-like puffs of silk-wrapped spider babies lulling softly in the light breeze from the east, and never was such a place seen by the foreign blue eyes of outsiders, except one fateful day when the people of the neighboring east flew from their homes to the lake to bathe.

There perched atop a naked juniper a flock consisting of six elder sisters and their youngest brother Tonto, one by one descending from the sky they flew in one swoop gracefully hanging their feathered coats as their slender limbs emerged golden from thriving under the sun, their hands swathed in riches of carved bone bracelets, shell beads and prettily-colored stones strung about their necks in thin, yet clothe-like layers and hanging to their waists. The girls were equally beautiful, their hair tumbling low until each dark strand submerged itself into the water, which framed succulently round curves and gently pleasing faces. Lastly and wearily to land came their brother Tonto whom first circled the lake to seek out intruders, once satisfied, he flew to a nearby rock and emerged from his coat protectively of his sisters, his own beauty that of a battle-hewn warrior as did one speak of his arms devoid of idleness, his limbs boasting leather and silver riches won as favors from the neighboring tribes he had counted coup against. He wore no jewel except his beaded war shirt being that his father the Chief had once told him his own bravery was the Only treasure worth a man's wear. So then he checked once, twice, a dozen times until his sisters pleaded for him to play in the water and to stop worrying, alas submerging himself and resuming with their rare peace.

Off from the east came an outsider weary from his travels, John Reid knew he was lost the moment he lost sight of the city and confusedly sought out the town he once called home, bumping into tribes and drunken cowboys on his way. With only his horse Silver and an empty canteen at his side, he haggardly marched on through the wilds of unmade roads and intertwining trails until he heard the merciful sounds of girls giggling in the distance behind a great sand dune, he gratefully urged Silver onward until he dismounted and marched forth to introduce himself and to ask of sharing the water. Upon seeing seven semi-nude natives to the land and robes hanging upon a tree as if to display the death of a thousand merlin, John ducked behind a stone roughly his height, he peeked over to the forms whom had their backs turned, seemingly occupied with catching the dancing seeds of dandelion flowers puffing along a northeastern-bound breeze. John assumed he could be excused by the seven indigenous maidens if he could explain his thirst easily enough, and that he could keep a blindfold if they were more than uncomfortable with him being the only man in their presence.

Behind him came screams, John quickly blindfolded himself as he blindly felt his way to the directions of the screams, he bashfully shouted as he forgot of speaking only in sign rather than using a language most likely not known in these parts, "Excuse me! I'm sorry to barge- Barge into your place!"

"If only you- If you would please kindly allow me passage to the water source, I'd be most grateful!" John's cheeks flared as the screams amplified and the splashing of wet bodies clamoring out of the water became clear, his legs were about to bolt and carry him far away since the poor girls had seen him while he in turn saw them seven naked, he then made out sounds of an airborne flock chattering above him, he quickly said as best as he could without stuttering, "P-please don't be frightened. I wouldn't dream of harming any of you fair maidens, or trying intentionally to catch you in such a vulnerable state. I'm just very thirsty-"

The knot on John's head came undone, the sun made his eyes ache as he stared wide-eyed to Silver nudging a head rising from the water, until the wet form in question sat leaning forward upon their palms and staring up into the white horse's nose. Tonto had never seen anything with flesh so tall and nearly hairless unless he were looking at a mangy, white, elk whose horns had rotted off, he first wriggled his nose as Silver began sniffing at the strange water creature who did not run as did the girls whom called to Tonto, their voices sharp and loud in the air, which could not deter Tonto from his rarely-satisfied curiosity. He heard over and over 'Get away, little brother!', 'Fly, Tonto!', 'Do not stare at the sickly Moose!' How could he not look away from an animal so gentle and loving? Those dark eyes lined with long lashes and the warm mouth stretched down to the ground as it's white nose nibbled at his shoulder and sopped hair, Tonto's eyebrows furrowed as his face lolled side to side as a curious little pigeon does when enquiring about questionable seeds.

John found the courage to approach then, his boots tracking through the sand as he continued to observe the person half sitting in the lake's shallow edge and half leaning out upon the smoothened gravel layered with a sheet of damp algae. He knew enough by the collection of scars to draw near the people of the west with utmost care, lest he get either an arrow to the limb or a club to the chest, he slowly allowed himself to be seen by wise young eyes doubtlessly regarding him with a mix between uncertainty and interest. To his utter surprise, whom he presumed to be a Man slithered out gracefully from the water, but nestled between the strong jaws lay lush lips and a narrow, straight nose, above those doubtlessly feminine characteristics were a pair of eyes which only a mother doe had for her fawn.

John straightened up his back as he knelt down and offered 'her' a hand, which she took as her eyes lay on his unmoved, "Ma'am, I-"

Tonto stood fully as John took in the flat chest clothed by leather-woven beads and long legs tapering to places all too familiar to the male species, he gasped as he slapped his other hand over his eyes, "Oh, dear God!"

Tonto on the other hand grew ever more tied to drinking in the new things he had now just seen, he was even more worried of the man with eyes the same color of a blind elder's, he reached up to the hand and pulled the limb away to reveal eyes which mimicked the jewel-like blue of the mating dragonflies, he arched a brow as he brushed a hand up John's cheeks along the stubbly skin, his fingers pulling away as he felt as if he had grabbed a handful of the juniper's scrubby white hair. His thumbs gripped at the sides of John's lips, pulling and molding the skin whichever way as if to wipe away the desert's white dust from the sickly pale skin, yet the color stayed, John was likely reminiscent to a man toiling in the sun all day with his blood-filled complexion, the pale man's teeth big, white and all the more menacing while he stretched the slightly dry lips every which way he could.

John at long last had gotten over the initial shock of calling a man 'ma'am' and in the least finding her…him Attractive.

Tonto could almost think the same, as he leaned his nude body flush against John, he sniffed the man's mouth as if expecting something foul, but drew away only slightly, to pull at the waves of hair which were the same color as burning amber sap. He was so curious of the man's skin color. Had the pale man bleached in the sun as a cleaned bone does? Had the poor stranger fallen ill by the cold fever? Most likely not since the man's skin was burning and sweating in his hands, he dared to lick a wet stripe from John's stubbly chin to his cheek.

John's breath sounded halfway between a surprised wheeze and a moaning gasp as he righted himself to watch the native man's lips work at sampling what he could only describe as 'the exaggerated motion of tasting.'

Now somewhat satisfied of his prodding, Tonto wrung his hair which stuck to the back of his thighs until he peeled the wet strands away and walked with his bare feet across the mingling gravel and golden sand to the rock he had whence hung his feathered coat. John found his opportunity then to seize the other man for his knowledge, he ran across to the coat with it's fur interwoven and braided in alongside a layer of feathers, he grabbed up the clothing before Tonto had the chance to touch a tuft upon it's glossy surface. Tonto in turn reached to the coat held out from his grasp, realizing that if he could not have his coat back, he would not be able to return home to his tribe and family, with gentle words he explained as calmly as he could manage:

"Please, honorable Brother, return what belongs to me. I will give you anything you wish in return," Tonto read nothing but embarrassment on John's face, maybe for the fact of their current states, he mentally scolded himself for not offering the lake to the pale man first before jumping in with his sisters. What a rude man he felt for being so ungenerous to the obvious newcomer to the lands he frequented.

"Please, honorable Brother, I beg of you. Return what is mine and no harm will befall you, this I swear to you as the son of Chief Wise-Eagle," he stepped forward only to confusedly listen as if he were hearing the babble of elk calling to one another in the forest.

"I'm sorry, mister. I really am, but will you Please put on some clothing! It's very distracting to speak with a nude man!" John held the coat away, weary of the possible weapons or poisons harbored in the various invisible pockets and assumingly stitched bags beneath the folds, he motioned downward to the blank and troubled gaze of Tonto, he motioned overstatedly to the parts of the native which troubled him the most all the while saying to himself, "Why do I always talk to the village idiot and over prepare for nothing."

Tonto could hardly understand what the man before him was telling him; either the pale man had an unusual affliction of the kidney or had an urgent ailment of the reproductive sort, it was suddenly too ridiculous with how John kept motioning over his crotch area that he burst out laughing outward from his belly, the sound rolling through his chest and outwards tumbling from his lips in mirthful waves echoing happiness and humor. Being the only thing with a decipherable brain and two legs in the desert for the past two weeks had John in shock at the lethargy he had within himself, he stopped mid-grind, mid-crotch-gesture, mid-heartbeat as the naked man hunched forward and slapped his nude knees as tears poured down his cheeks. He nervously chuckled, but quickly covered the aforementioned parts he had been making a spectacle of only a moment ago, he tossed Tonto a spare shirt and a dark tan pair of pants he felt himself unable to wear for the too-small waistline and close double-stitched high waist for suspenders.

All John wanted was a decent exchange between two decently Clothed gentlemen for directions to the place he lost in his childhood, which was not so hard was it? But Tonto was completely in awe and in frustration that he first examined the clothing instead of putting on the strangely and thinly woven fibers, he could hardly understand if the material were wool, yet was not thick enough to be definitely wool, the clothing was airy and flimsy, maybe it was taken straight from the clouds and dried on land, even still was the pattern of the cuts and stitches very much unusual. What a stranger he had come upon! Of course John took initiative and fitted Tonto with the clothing, which instead the native man just as quickly shucked himself of, and the game continued until John gave up and finally began speaking in heated and terribly worded sentences:

"I need directions into you- -into Your to Town! Do you understand!" John knew he was shouting, but it seemed to stop all of Tonto's laughing, he paraded around in circles and paced back and fourth before the man who stood a head smaller than he, he felt his skin beginning to scald with the heat he had surging under his cheeks and neck, "My horse needs rest and I need stalling- No!"

"What's so funny! I'm sure I'm not the only man you've seen out here dying of arousal-!" John whipped about only to come face to face with that same laughing man who could not for the life of either figure out what the other said, he instead shook Tonto's hand in farewell, "You know what? Thank you for your directions, and good luck with the nude colony, it must be wonderful having the gait of a stork without the reprisal of breeches."


	7. Four Choices

"How've you come to find us, John?" Rebecca asked, her eyes alight and wonder just as expectantly pouncing on the few words John suddenly had to offer during their brief hello, she settled into her seat as the table before them was served up a platter of beef cutlets, potatoes and a pitcher of warm milk, "I expect them people wouldn't let you leave even if you wanted."

"Which explains my lack of understanding this place if Tonto was the one to lead me here," John crookedly smiled though half willingly since he was still at a loss of understanding How he had offended his friend in the first place, he murmured a quick 'thank you' to one of the farm hands as she poured him a glass of whiskey which he could not find the stomach in him to swallow, he instead smoothed out the cloth napkin over his lap and took up his silverware in hand, "I guess he wanted me to get reacquainted with my past."

"Of course he would, you're not one of them," Rebecca only smiled around her dainty bit of cutlet, their eyes made brief contact before John made such a painful-looking grin which instantly caused the whole jolly affair to sour and become all the more uncomfortable, she concluded, "It's a sad truth, John, but we'll never have anything in common except for the land we live on."

If John were saying he had never been hurt by Tonto, he would be lying, the first time he met his friend his head was bruised then like a plum growing outwards from his forehead between his brows, now he was trying his hardest not to massage his chest for the ache he found there hiding, the seed Tonto planted there now dying from a starvation he knew was one made by love. A kind so pure and seemingly able to withstand anything if only they did not part, was now withering, he could feel the roots crumbling inside his bones, the buds which had yet to flower already curling into themselves and freezing in the unfruitful autumn with unripe discontent. He felt as if he were being studied by the people he once knew, Danny himself found it hard to ask his uncle questions about the tribe next door, about how it felt to kill a man, about why John looked so sad while glancing to the sand dunes and about where his trusty riding partner went. The boy went about quietly chewing and sipping his milk, his gaze shooting to his abruptly stiff mother and his hound dog-faced uncle cheerlessly picking and gobbling the food.

"The natives are nothing at all like the way we heard them to be, Rebecca," John attempted to smile, only wavering slightly as the last touch of Tonto he remembered was on in farewell, "I have in fact been treated well while resting in their camp. They are wonderfully equipped and knowledgeable of this land we've come to call the 'Wild West'."

"Absolutely, though it's an equally wonderful change from all the smoke and noise back east. I miss it sometimes," Rebecca nodded, though trying her best to sway the subject from a topic she was quite foreign to, she sipped her hot tea, "Don't you, John?"

"I can't remember how the east was from time to time," he shrugged, again trying not to recall the hurt flash across Tonto's face before melting into the coldest stare he had ever received from him not since he screwed up apprehending Cavendish, he stabbed into the meat and took a mouthful, "Maybe it was 'civilized'."

"It's probably all that trail dust clogging up your better judgment. Besides, this place is full of liars willing to spin a good tale for the few listening ears," Rebecca was none the less a little disturbed, but more than happy to serve her homed love at the sight of his returned appetite, "More potatoes?"

He finished his meal with a side of a full stomach and heartburn from eating so quickly, saying goodnight to Rebecca was more or less familial without feeling in the deep kiss bestowed unto her. Unable to sleep properly in a bed, John carried a blanket and pillow out unto the porch to watch the full moon rise from the east, the moon Deity floated from her home and flashed her white buffalo robes as she sought out her husband the Sun Deity, unable to find her only equal love, she sat amidst the clouds and comforting stars as she wept tears which were made into shooting stars.

John had a dream that very night, he was wandering a path with no goal, no sun shone a light nor gave him a direction for which to follow, he felt as if he had walked for hours by the pain in his legs and thighs, soon he felt parched, almost dried out to exhaustion. Far away and quickly approaching, came illuminating the dark a faint light, as if it were only a candle fighting against a wind alone, John's legs would not stop moving long enough for him to think if the place he was heading near was safe or even Not a trick his mind was playing on him. His fingers swept along a solid object, the source warm, soft and tight, just below near the height of his waist lay a movable cloth-like hide, he peeled the skin aside and crawled into the teepee's entrance. Before him sat Tonto, the man's hands in continuous motion of combing out his long hair with a wooden comb which John had given to him as a gift after complaining of the hair tangling in his suit while riding, but there was something also amiss: a trail led from Tonto's eyes to his chin which then in turn dripped unto his ever-moving hands.

John tried to make sense of everything he was seeing, he had never knew Tonto possessed more than the stoic face he always wore, only once in a great while seeing the man smile was like an eclipse every four years, and suddenly as if being revealed the secret of longevity, he felt the slap of pity leaving a bruise across his pride's cheek. Movement caught his notice as he watched a tear form, the liquid growing at the base of Tonto's eyelash, and slowly riding across the high cheekbones unto the tightly-clamped chin, the minute flash as the tear caught light from the fire only made the ranger more curious of what secrets those unwanted tears contained, and like a knife upon flesh, John felt the sharp edge of each tear bite into him.

The first vision to assault him was a night five days after their agreed partnership:

They walked for a while tracking Butch Cavendish in the red sands and spackling of tall yellow scrub blooming tiny white flowers, they had been on foot for hours while Tonto urged John to ride behind instead of poking around the sand and being led astray by the simple rabbit prints, or the slithering four-legged stride of a rock lizard, or the dust-laden stomping of a herd of the unseen mustang herd, and a few crooked loping prints of downed drunks. John found and interesting trail once, watching the trail wind and cut in graceful indents before he could ask Tonto what they were, he heard and felt it: a rattling followed by the fiery twin sting of teeth to his upper shin and one to his right hand, he fell before the hissing could subside and lost consciousness. Yet the vision kept going, as if he were watching a silent film in school or witnessing a picture come to life - Tonto picked up the diamond back by the tail, and he also spoke perfectly!

"Why did you have to go and do that, little nephew?" Tonto picked up the snake by the cusp between rattling tail and belly skin, his voice sounded strained, strange to John's ears and urgent, "He is a friend!"

"White Men came and killed all my daughters, my sons, my wife and parents! And for what, for the plain clothes We Snake-People wear!" the snake transformed into a man being held by the wrist by Tonto, he was tall and dark-skinned, his long hair plaited with wide leather strips to make the illusion of diamonds being printed down his back, his face smooth and serpentine-like, his clothing made of scales all the while he gripping two white daggers dripping something foul, "If they wanted to wear it, we would give it!"

"Little nephew," Tonto knelt down to John's splayed body, he smoothed back the damp hair and explained warmly, his brown eyes not once moving from the downed ranger, "-he is different. Spirit Walker is my only hope for making right what was wrong, he knows my ways, he understands me like no other - even that of my own kin."

"Ay, you've given him a name," the Snake-Man slapped his own head, he then untied the rattling pouch hanging at his lower back and reached in, he placed the contents in Tonto's hand and instructed, "Take my magic and heal him, give him a sign of protection after you are done and my kin shall never harm him again."

"Thank you, little nephew," Tonto shifted the contents in his open hand revealing white liquid which hardened in the sunlight into four white crystals, and a silver arrowhead engraved with the sign of the Snake-People, Tonto closed his eyes for a moment, then prophesized, "In four days, you shall meet a beautiful snake-maiden named Coiled-Skin Girl. Keep her safe and she will give you many more children."

"Farewell, uncle. Thank you," the Snake-Man gripped Tonto's shoulder in farewell as he nodded good naturedly to the ranger still on the ground, "Tell the idiot to keep his nose out of dens; he is very noisy."

"Don't forget 'Curious' like all men's nature," Tonto shouted to the running figure who then crouched down low and dove into the sand, leaving behind a long slithering trail in the brush and sand.

"Like all men!" the snake hissed back.

Tonto took no mind of the stars rising from the east and the sun falling behind the canyons in the west, he rolled up John's pants leg, and put his lips to the bruised flesh turning a sickly shade of reddish-black, John's head rolled from side to side as the pain gripped his mind one last time and left in a burning pulse. Tonto spat out the poison which glittered and shined under the starlight, he sat back on his hunches to regain his breath but gulped in air as he gently took John's right hand, he glanced to the ranger to see if he was watching, yet quickly caught his bearings on the dreadfulness of the situation, he lightly placed his lips on the flesh between John's thumb knuckle and index finger knuckle, he sucked in a strong rhythm to draw out the spreading venom, until his mouth was full of the bitter stuff, he spat only to look upon John's face and see a pair of blue eyes watching him. The tracker at first wriggled his nose and peered into the unmoving blue eyes trained solely on him, he kneeled in closer until they were both nearly nose to nose, and John blinked.

Tonto grabbed the nearest thankfully thin rock and cracked it on John's head, he instantly balled up his fists and hissed at John's knocked-out self, "You see what you do to me!"

John grabbed his forehead with both hands as he fell on his rump and a curse back inside the teepee. Inside the warmth of the place he stayed, a woman entered behind him and spoke to Tonto as if they both could not see John sitting near the fire, she was the tribeswoman whom fed the pair and had smiled hellos whenever seeing the pair together:

"Where is he?" she looked around behind her two white braids to the hide-walled teepee as if she were to find whom she was looking for behind a mysterious fold.

"Where is who?" Tonto shifted uncomfortably, his steady motions of brushing the long black hair surrounding him becoming more of a caterpillar inching down a mountain.

"Of all the years feeding you, Wild-One, Man-of-the-Water-Place, I see you Alas with someone you love," the woman came into the teepee with her iron pot of stewed meats and the small bundle to berry cake and acorn bread, she easily took her fire stick and arranged a neat set of coals until she could set the pot atop the hot surface, her voice was whittled but clear, "He makes you smile. Spirit-Walker makes you laugh like you had when you were a child."

"All children grow up sometime, especially one in his thirty-fourth spring," the tracker placed his head in his hands and shut his eyes to the tribeswoman's kindness which only served to usher out more unwanted tears.

"Oh, young Wild-One, if you live to see me at my age, you'll learn that not all White-People are bad, not all life is meant to last," she limped slowly around the fire, she sat atop the bundle of John's mattress and blankets, her hand slowly stroking Tonto's head as it came to rest on her knee.

"Is it why being apart from him hurts so much?" his voice was low, cracking, broken and fighting to steady itself. John's shock became anger at himself.

"I will not lie when I say it is the worst pain of all," she quietly reminded Tonto, "Remember, my child: remember the times he had brought you so much happiness…"

A second vision came to John, the teepee became distant, almost as if it were a toy placed behind a dune:

"These. For food," Tonto lifted up an intact thorny branch displaying the round red berries, they were both crouched side by side behind the berry bush as he continued to explain in his own broken English, "Better in the summer."

The land once parched had just drank up her thirsty fill of her season's first monsoon, and for the faithful people's efforts in her, she provided a bountiful game of deer, plump hares, wild chicken and fattened mountain sheep. Since then, Tonto had decided to teach John in the ways of his tribe, or firstly 'how to survive with nothing', which was seeming to go swimmingly until the tracker began 'Shushing' John's every question and comment, it somehow felt connected to something John could not understand.

"Are you sure the pine tea won't give me an upset stomach-?" John asked before being again shushed, but John standing apart from himself had Heard what it was that Tonto was hearing all this time.

He took off his hat and listened to the whisper in the trees: 'Don't they look the pair!', 'I see Wild-One blushing!', 'Look at them! Look at them!', 'My, my!', 'Wild-One and Spirit-Walker sitting in a tree-!'

There was a flutter and a crack as the voices disappeared, John looked across from him to see Tonto smirking at the many winged birds take flight, a bird dove in and whistled into Tonto's ear: 'Kiss him, you idiot!'

Tonto growled, just then the songbirds settled back into the shading cottonwood tree leaning over the two and then came more whistling voices twittering to one another: 'You're going to regret Not doing anything!', 'Don't they just look twitter-painted?', 'Oh, the way they sit so Close!', 'Off your butt and into his Arms!', 'Hurry up before I steal him myself!', 'Oh, the clueless fools-!'

John squinted into the sunlight, and saw maidens with long hair and dressed in brightly woven skirts giggling to each other, their loud whispering voices muted by the passing breeze, he then looked at Tonto's head only to see an old man dressed in black robes sitting on Tonto's shoulders and shouting at the girls, "Shut up, you hags! Can't you see he's trying his Best!"

Tonto then reached into his leather bag and sprinkled seed into the old man's pointed mouth, which he noisily gobbled and coughed, "Just you wait! Just you silly girls wait - he'll have this White fool yet-!"

The combination of wording and watching John's dream-self taking the first sip of bitter pine needle tea, Tonto fell unto his back laughing, his smile so wide and stomach so full of joyful sounds that John wondered if he would ever see the man's stoic face again, not that he cared to welcome it back so soon.

"Do you enjoy these visions?" the voice so distinctly his partner's rang behind him, John spun about to be met with the handsome unpainted face of Tonto, "They are my most precious memories, Spirit-Walker."

John's mouth fell open, he asked Tonto, "Why was that the only time I have ever seen you so truly happy, Tonto?"

"If you knew my heart better then I did, you would know of what I truly considered the state of 'Happiness', Spirit-Walker," Tonto smiled shyly, almost sadly as he led the way to the darkest corner of the setting, the sands became a blackness, the tree shrunk into nothingness as did the mesas, Tonto gently took both of John's hands into his own and spoke clearly, "You truly are - Different. Not many people come to this place and can say much to another Spirit-Walker like yourself."

They had both come to a place, stars dotting the sky all around except for four places and the glittering bridge upon which both John and Tonto stood.

"Do you see behind me to the west?" Tonto asked, glancing behind him to the teepee below the seated Moon Deity weeping shooting stars.

"Yes," John nodded in remembered sadness.

"It is my home. Our home if you decide to follow me," Tonto brought up the clasped hands to his chin and felt the warmth with his cheekbones and explained of the lights and towering buildings illuminated by the Sun Deity whom glanced around for his Moon-Bride, "Behind you is New York, a place you may go back to."

"To our left is Red's where you will spend forever regretting everything you have done, and you will die there a sorry drunk," Tonto said, they both looked down from the bridge to the lantern-like glow, songs jangling as did the wild moaning of both sexes, they glanced down the other side of the bridge to the other side, "To our right-"

"Rebecca," John answered, the image of Rebecca sleeping alone as a soft glow of moonlight lit her face softly, her inner voice whispering to him in her sleep: 'John…John…John…'

"You will live out your days as happy as you can be, she will give you ten children," Tonto explained as he lent his power of foresight to transform the present to the bright future, John sat surrounded by many children while the many bodies pranced around himself and the smiling wife and mother Rebecca; the setting remained the same, yet the time appeared into the far future: John lay in his deathbed, his beard long and surrounded by all his grown children and their own numerous children, "You will grow old and die in your great-grandchildren's arms."

"I cannot promise you anything, John Reid Spirit-Walker," Tonto looked up at John; the scene again changing into a vision of the possible: Tonto being thrown into the streets from establishments, his people being treated unjustly, "For I am a child to this land, I will always be seen as an animal."

"For I am seen as an animal, I will never be civilized or an equal," Tonto directed their gazes to a vision of the Comanche people being put into tiny jails made up of land, and another vision of them both fighting hand to hand seemingly to the death, "For I stick with my choice, I may not always see eye to eye with you."

Again all visions reverted to the peace of the stars for one more truth was made clear, John saw only two graves deep inside a canyon and beneath those graves lay two men embracing for eternity as if in an eternally tranquil dream, "For I am a man, I will not bear you children."

"Yet because you love me, it is all I can promise to love you in return if not equally, then more than you," Tonto said calmly, his hands clasping John's one final time before he let go and proceeded to walk down the starry bridge westward back to the teepee they had once shared, he looked back and waved, his hands flat and closed atop one another as he closed them over his chest, one hand leaving his body as the other lay at his side, he swept the hand to John.

The sign language meaning more to John than he could ever force himself to care for.

"I love you, Wild-One!" John threw his hands skyward to shake the stars from sleep and shouted to the world as the sun began creeping over to the west, the Sun Deity alas coming to his bride the Moon Deity, taking her cold hands in his hot ones, they met for a kiss which turned the world black and lit up the sky in the fires of their eternal love.

John awoke with a start, he sat up on his hunches and glanced up vaguely at the eclipse burning like a black sun in the heavens. He saddled up Silver and rode to the one place he decided to call home.

* * *

hi there, readers! :)  
Thanks for your patience, & as for my thank you- I've started up a group on DeviantArt called 'TontoXTheLoneRanger', very original huh?  
You'll find some hard-worked TontoxJohnReid pieces made by awesome people I had the pleasure of meeting...& as for the afterthought, there's a contest too... :P go ahead & check it out :)


	8. --PREVIEW2--

i'm so Very sorry if following the chapters have been well...confusing...but some of these stories have been samples & they will say so at the very bottom, i'll delete them as soon as i've updated their second half on Ao3. Excuse the porn on Ao3, that's where my stash is hidden.  
This story was requested especially by a reader & her themes: Tonto!Dom, LoneRanger!Sub, Marriage, & Slight Angst

enjoy the first half of the fic while I get the second half ready~

* * *

Priest or Witch-Doctor Needed

Tonto lay on a ruffled maroon spring mattress, his weight making the springs creak as he turned to face John who lay in a separate bed, his blue eyes closed and breathing calmly, he stood up and rubbed his face, feeling the skin of a stranger as his hands passed over the unpainted panes which he had once diligently covered with the pigment of finely ground crushed herb and cedar oils. He looked to the crow perched atop a risqué painting just above John's bed, drawn to the image below the erotic work of art Tonto dimmed the yellow lamp on the stand to a faint glow and uncovered the upper half of John's body. The scent of sacred herbs burning on the stove sated the injured ranger as much as possible, John slept unawares while the bruises on his body were observed, careful fingers brushing sweat off his skin and cleansed him with water drippings from soaked leaves, roots and dried blooms.

A bundle of spare sheets lay in a pile, reaching for one, he dipped the cloth into the basin of fragrant water, his fingers and cloth emerging soaked, wet leaves clinging as roots lay at the bottom of the cracked white enamel basin. John shivered at the touch of Tonto's fingers clutching the cloth to his bruises, a cool which first dampened his skin and a warmth of the palm sweeping over his skin calmed him, a deep sigh no longer able to hold itself from behind his slightly opened lips. The ranger's body twisted in search of Tonto's light touch, his aching skin craving to have the painful throb once again soothed away, his ears picking up faint sounds of Tonto's voice shaping without words unknown to him a chant, a prayer of wellness to beseech to an all powerful being he had not a name for.

Noises of giggling women, of laughing drunkards and the banging of the upright piano were drowned out to John: Tonto's breathing, his hot palms and the prepared herbs, his soft voice gently nudging the ranger away from the wounds' smarting sting existed upon the shared present they both occupied.

Tonto massaged the bruises, his fingers slowly edging toward the bullet wounds in John's lower right ribcage and left thigh, he made sure not to twist any muscle nor attempt to reach into the broken flesh, he instead concentrated, trusting his body to the being in the world above his own to save his friend. The last thought gave him pause only for the second his mind was occupied by an idea other than saving his partner, he closed his eyes in the dimness, the shadows overtaking John's sleeping form, alas the world became quiet, the stillness expanding unto forever, nothingness turning into a knowledge, a much-needed while he had before he let his mind wander and possibly damage John more than was already done.

The vibrating floorboards and rhythmic stomping of the girls' heels came back, as did John's consciousness, he blinked at first, his voice raspy as he saw Tonto's shadowed form holding his fists above his body, "Tonto?"

"Lucky Spirit-Walker," Tonto answered, he opened both palms turned upright, two bloody slugs shone in the weak yellow light, he threw both objects out the open window and took his place next to John, "Take care next time."

John gulped weakly at the fingers tracing over his two nearly closed wounds, the first instinct told him to say thank you like a well-bred man, the other infected by Tonto's stoic nature screamed for him to claim what had been stolen from him since the hours before, the evening preceding the current night when his heart was taken from his chest and awaited an answer from Tonto. Bones heavy and muscles weak, the ranger attempted to sit up, Tonto quickly hooked an arm under his shoulders, the other around his waist, John lay against the headboard atop Tonto's arms, and he lay so close in his partner's gentle grip. Aware of the heat on his cheeks which only made Tonto's eyes widen just slightly. Maybe out of surprise? Out of disgust? Possibly from desire? Amusement?

John had no idea, he rather would not tempt fate nor his luck in finding out which made the tiniest of reactions possible, yet he was in so much pain to find out, to see if there were a light at the end of this endless tunnel he seemed to be lost in with Tonto at his side. His skin heated, his chest felt both full and light, his blood seemed as if to rush to his cheeks and throughout his entire body until he sat completely flushed from head to toe, his body numb to the agony he once retained. There was the notion of whether Tonto had ever been in love or if he was drawn to a certain person, the torture of both not knowing and already positively predicting the answer was the greatest of his anguish. John instead laid his forehead against his tracker's jawbone and licked his lips to whet the yearning tingle he felt beneath his skin, too tired and his heart too weak in his pursuit of an already-clear answer.

Surely Tonto had many admirers, the dangerous and chivalrous qualities about the strange man was a definite trait which drew more than the occasional woman of ill repute. John could not at all say if Tonto even Knew how to buy a woman for the sole purpose of pleasure, since it was already spoken that most or all tribes considered doing so a taboo. Was the notion for falling in unrequited lust with a 'white-skinned demon' under the same category as such? But the ranger was no fool after seeing yankee schools with children despised by society, sometimes the story being that their birth came to sired by a winsome brave or their mothers having been stolen and married to the chief's eldest son, the stories went on and on. Tonto was a mystery at best.

John at first decided to pretend-faint, afterwards ask if the crow had seeds, but finally pushed all cowardice aside to do what better judgment required of him, "Thank you."

John found himself a little awkward and rude to demand or even steal an unsolicited kiss from his partner; a mental scolding was in order.

Alas growing accustomed to the thought of preserving his friendship through ignoring his longing, Tonto took John by his nape and tilted the man's chin upward, his brown eyes sad but betraying his joyfully tender expression behind the long wisps of black hair, the tracker only spoke triumphantly, his tone low and free of vanity, "Don't ever - Ever take journey without me, Kee-Mo-Sabe."

"Not without me," Tonto heaved his companion close, his body bowed over the injured man, he felt himself so close to tears due to the fact that everyone he seemed to know died, especially one who became more than a blood brother, he kept his voice strong as he declared quietly, "Will always find you. Will always bring you back, Kee-Mo-Sabe."

The tiniest waves of relief swept over John, like the soothing touch to his cheek, a few deft fingers ghosting along his skin as the soft sensation of Tonto's lower lip stayed set gently over his upper lip, and he gasped, his mind unable to believe the telltale beginning of a kiss. The weakness in his body refused to allow him to take initiative and change their touch into a answer to Tonto's questioning hint of warmth, he instead clung with all his might to remember every detail of this moment, his strength-sapped hands attempting to grip Tonto's arms, his lips only lightly closing over the tracker's lower lip in farewell to the dream he would tomorrow wake from. John's form melted into gravity's pull, his eyes no longer able to fight against the delicious caress of his friend's gestures.

Sleep came unwanted, the sun rose from the east that cold mid-spring morning and John's health along with Tonto's need to ride away from Red's bordello. Shadows of the earth came hardly alit before the tracker hurried himself and John away from the house of empty pockets and full breeches, on they rode to a town famed by it's Pony Express route. Gray and scrub-colored penny lizards skittered over flat stones upon their trail, rattlers and harmless corn snakes hissed from under yellow brush and thick foliage of wild blue sage pluming straight up from the soft red grains of earth, sand rolling beneath the darker soils while the wind seemed as if to funnel a whispering echo through the canyons.

For the first time since their meeting, John wholeheartedly leaned his body into Tonto, his arms slightly dangling as the tracker kept a woven belt sash tied over their buckles, Tonto smiled every once in a moment after hearing John's relieved sighs against his shoulder and at the memory of their all too brief evening. As the town came into view, Tonto held tight to John's lax hands, townsfolk stopped, pointed, stared, whispered of the two men riding a white horse, one White with a mask, the other a savage with his head held high and jaws unmoving, almost proud if anyone saw the tiny smile on his lips.

When John came to, he found himself on his back with gentle fingers dabbing away the noontime sweat collected on his neck, a damp cloth draped over his forehead and a hand lightly tracing his hairline, his vision slowly focused on the tracker perched above him and face soft with concern, John had to touch just to see if he was at all dreaming. The slight motions of his fingers tracing the lips and chin had Tonto smiling, John drew back and quickly mumbled what his raspy voice would allow in a rush, "Tonto- I should apologize for what happened last night. I wasn't all there and I'm sorry if I've offended-"

Tonto stole the rest of John's words from his chest and the tip of his lips as they inevitably drew close, the tracker dove headlong, their lips enclosed upon the other, one so mild and tender until John found the strength within himself to lean up and into the taste of mashed juniper berries and the tiniest bite of teeth against his lips, John opened himself a little wider as he swallowed what little fear he had left in facing the world. Tonto hummed appreciatively, not because the popular belief of his people not accustomed to kissing, which was partially true, he inhaled the breath of his partner, his lungs seeming as if to flutter as the flavor of John's favorite foods made him smile: dried jerky and berry cake, all of which Tonto made for his partner when they were more than three days from the Comanche camp.

Tonto made his mind up then, he came upon one knee and took John's hands into his, "Marry."

Untrue to popular belief that a 'savage' forcefully took white brides against their will, this was truly an strange gesture which Tonto was making: Formally asking the bride-to-be of a courtship, since said-consenting brides were married on the spot by way of word than ceremonial pomp.

"I don't know what to say…" John paused, his mind trying to catch up with what Tonto's hands were already doing, taking from his own wrist a silver concho inset with a leather band and fastening the ends to John's right wrist, finally the meaning dawning on John, he began to lay out half-made plans, "Should I invite my family? Should I get together a priest? A padre? A judge? A witchdoctor? And about the suit-"

Unbeknownst to John, Tonto retreated to the door asking for the made infamous Madame Red to look after John while he was away on 'urgent business', she nodded while leaning up against the doorframe and watching John talk on about the affairs at hand.

"-there should be a reception. And celebration-" the ranger counted off on his fingers alas asking his groom a question worth answering, "What about invitations, Tonto?"

"Will be back soon," Tonto poked his head in only to give the 'what ever suits you'-wave as he merrily whistled his way out of Red's Bordello, "Be ready."

The next few days were filled with butterflies in John's stomach, air in his steps and fireworks in his heart going off at every thought he had of the wedding between his groom Tonto and himself, he wondered then when he had started thinking of himself as the Bride, he murmured after his days spent recuperating were left quiet and he thought some of his suit for the ceremony, "Such a silly thing to refer to myself as."

The world suddenly seemed awake as he sat in bed with Madame Red at his side once in a while saying as she gave him cups of medicinal tea, "That man must be outta his mind to love you, lawman."

John was easily seated on the bed, his wounds almost healed but still retaining the slight bruises if he pressed too hard on the areas, he sipped the hot herbal mixture as he again asked her the question they had both dwelled on for the duration he was boarded in Red's private rooms, "What makes you think so, Miss Harrington?"

"A white man and a redskin, nothing never sounded so ridiculous as the flying pig circus," she easily said in her sure-to-the-fact-manner all the while brushing her hair and redoing her ginger curls to the perfect height atop her crown, "I'm sure he ain't the very first person you've had eyes for, anyone even blind can reckon you've got the late ranger Reid's widow. She's the pretty sort. The easily hurt-kind."

John hated this part of their talk: the direction of him telling his brother's widow and sealing his fate as a dead ranger killed by a ranch woman, he peeked from the cup to Red whom was currently awaiting his reply in her womanly manner not yet extinguished by her deviant profession, her eyes prompted him to answer and her leg pointed his direction pressed for the truth, he felt less threatened of Red than Rebecca's anger, "Telling Rebecca of the wedding will only make her see my brother's ghost sooner."

"Is giving her false hope what you want for her, lawman?" Red pursed her lip as she smoothed out her skirts and continued on her candid way explaining her thoughts, "She'll be old and dead before she ever sees you again, and only swine would let a poor thing like her wonder all her years what is wrong with her to turn a good man away."

"You're right. I shouldn't keep her in the dark," John set his empty cup aside, finally deciding to Think rather than talk Around the subject of inevitably Telling Rebecca of the marriage, he felt the dark cloud hanging over the day to happen, but resolved that tipping off Rebecca was for the best, "Maybe I can tell Rebecca indirectly, kind of talk a bit of sense while letting her down gently to decide what she makes of the entire matter."

"Just don't mention you're marrying a Man, she'll doubt herself and take up arms before marching through the affair," Red then unbuckled her ivory leg and handed John the barrel end as she began to polish the smooth limb to perfection as her rouged lips lifted in a grin, while they alas came upon an agreement.

"Acting unladylike isn't at all in Rebecca's nature," John answered, feeling an odd absence of lust as he held the prosthetic limb in his hands while Red continued to dab and buffer gently, "But she will try and make light of the situation, I think."

The girls of Red's never slept being that they took many naps during the day to remain awake far into the night, John slowly grew accustomed to the singing, tapping, laughing, and obvious state of the oldest profession in other rooms below Red's where he stayed. By candle, he sat at her desk with a borrowed quill and paper, a stack of lists at his side and another stack of hand-written invitations on the other, he was writing out his last invitation and he was suddenly hit by doubt, his fingers hesitating to pen out simple sentences, and his mind refusing to step away from the past they had shared as near-lovers. He cursed himself, head in hand and the fresh page wordless, John wished now more than ever to be encouraged by Tonto's presence to make everything clear to Rebecca of his finding an unlikely half of himself, yet he knew this was a struggle against the memories he had to try alone to fully get over Rebecca. He haltingly began:

Dearest Rebecca…

John paused, his finger wrapped around the pen as he wondered to himself when Had he stopped pursuing Rebecca Reid; the very first signs he felt that he could live without his first love was the moment Tonto showed him a sign of friendship. So small was the gesture just two weeks after Tonto and himself's all-too-platonic-alliance, but understanding how not only water and food being natural sources of living were hard to come by, he was even more surprised by the fact that both were prepared already by the time they headed back to camp on their first day as riding partners. It was such a short and instantaneous memory, yet he remembered every detail down to the Almost-kiss they had before being interrupted by a mouse running up John's night clothing, he slammed his head against the desk in embarrassment as he remembered nearly falling out of the teepee.

Our time together, though short, was one of the greatest times of my life…

He balled up the page, feeling as if he were writing to a corpse or an epitaph for a tombstone, the thought revolted him as he pulled out a new page and started fresh:

Dear Rebecca,

We both can't lie for Danny's sake…

He threw the next on into the flaming stove and again thought for a moment, thinking twice before putting his pen to the page:

Dear Rebecca,

You have taught me what it is to love someone with all my heart and to let go. I admit not being able to live day to day, and the thought of Dan taking care of you and Danny made everything better, you had the best man named Reid to have your hand and he in return gave you all he had to give.

The one person I was meant for found me in all ways unmarriageable, and yet still pursued to be at my side.

Please come to our wedding.

- Yours Truly, John Reid

The invitation was simple, short and to the point in case Rebecca wanted to skip the bells and whistles reading two pages of flowery language, there was also the lack of gently saying 'I'm not attracted to you anymore'. And a few many things a woman can take - unreturned love? Sure, she can manage. Inability to father? Maybe. Said-first-love marrying a man? John shook his head of the disaster to impede, but once she saw to Whom he was giving himself to, she could in the least understand and perhaps - just Maybe give their marriage her blessings for the long road ahead. He decided to forget wishful thinking for the present time being until the calamity came and it was time to really panic. Rebecca coming to the wedding was an unavoidable disaster ready to happen, he was sure of it.

Days turned into a week, nights became warmer and John was sure his invitations were now distributed to the many maybe-surprised public, some of the girls of the establishment now hung from the windows dreamily of the wedding, giggling of things that made John blush as he heard through the walls of his and Tonto's wedding night. They spoke openly of sex: touching what with where, kissing and licking forbidden places, and putting a certain organ in a certain body part, John was suddenly bothered by an absent man doing who-knows-what to him while saying racy little English phrases. Gods and Deities unknown! John's hand suddenly reached down only to be slapped away by Red, she mumbled something close to 'Quit pawing at it or I'll have you tussled in a chastity belt', he stood straighter atop the raised platform with his hands at his sides as the girls with the best sewing fingers fitted the ranger into a white satin vest and a white velvet tailcoat, all which were surprisingly tasteful in elongating his already impressive stature, pins stuck to the unstitched ends while gray chalk outlined the slim fit of his suit.

"I'm confused how we're going about making this suit all fancy when Tonto'll rip it off at the sight of John." John blushed and squirmed uncomfortably at the mention of the suit laying ruined while he stood, kneeled, or lay spread naked for his groom-to-be, brown eyes raking hungrily over his body and alas diving towards him…

"Oh, John-" he glanced down to the voice at the floor, a rouged smile parted to giggle out to him, "-tell the mister down here to relax."

"Stop it, John! We are civilized!" he cursed quietly under his breath as he slapped a palm over his head, the ladies about him tittering like a lady does when told a joke, "This is the Fifth time today."

"Fancy seeing him awake earlier than usual," Red's monotone voice carried over the kneeling and bustling forms beneath John, she hobbled towards the low table which held a rubber-stopped bottle of spirits and a jarful of pins, "You're stretching out your trousers, lawman, you best keep your pistol holstered before it goes off. We don't want any accidents on the eve of your betrothal."

"And I suppose we have a Better suggestion for making me at ease, do we?" John's cheeks again flared as he marched down from the pedestal stiff-legged and leaned forward to relieve some of the pressure against his Peculiar areas.

"Ladies," Red caught the attention of her girls, she nodded to the door and hobbled out behind the gaggle filing out to the main stage, "The lawman wishes to be alone-"

"Ah-" she came back in as an afterthought and warned playfully, "-Take off the suit before it gets ruined, my girls'd kill you for destroying all their hard work. It ain't like any of these girls're ever gonna see a wedding again, especially one of strange circumstances."

"I'd sooner cancan in spurs," John replied while taking off the clothing until he stood in his under britches and shirt, Red tutted with a grin and swished her crimson skirt tail out to close the door and leave the ranger in peace.

Alone at last with his thoughts, John released the breath he had been gagging on since the day Tonto had left him in the Bordello alone, his feet felt like lead dragging against the worn floorboards, his arms swimming and head thrown on backwards, everything seemed in perfect pace and yet too slow for his liking to hold and be held by the absent groom. Deliberate impatience was the main enemy at the point where John lacked Waiting for the good to come out of the strange arrangement he had knowingly made, yet in it he knew in the moment he shared only for himself he would never be allowed the comfort of peace, thought boring was predictable, but he understood he had the will to follow the chaos along Tonto's path. He had the strength and the courage to 'keep on keeping on', and what he left behind was a past which hurt the only people he cared for: Rebecca and Danny, sooner and equally Tonto. Suddenly, John found he could not calm himself down from the anticipation of belonging to and having for himself the peculiar man who fed a flightless crow, he Wanted that maddening fellow Now.

"Tonto," John leaned over the windowsill as he had seen for the longest time and peered into the boundless sky glaring the brightest and most true pale blue he had ever seen, "When are we getting married?"

TBC on Ao3


End file.
